


7 Birthday Gifts Dean Winchester Got and One He Got Again

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Turns 40, Gen, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 14:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17530526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: Dean Winchester's birthdays aren't fancy. They're not big or loud or crazy. That's okay, though, so long as there's pie.





	7 Birthday Gifts Dean Winchester Got and One He Got Again

_1._

It’s a little toy car that looks just like Daddy’s, and he lights up like he just won the Superbowl when he opens the little package. 

His mommy doesn’t do big over-the-top gifts, but that’s okay. Dean doesn’t need ‘em. 

This is the best gift ever. 

_2._

The diner they’re sitting in is cold and mostly empty; maybe their heating is out. 

Dean deosn’t know what day it is or what time it is, or where they are. They've been driving a long time and at this point, all the scenery looks the same, especially after dark. 

Dad looks up at the waitress as she comes over to clear their plates. “Hey, can we get a slice of cherry pie?” 

Dean frowns deeply at his father as he nudges Sammy off of his shoulder. The kid’s dead to the world; sleeping soundly after a full meal of nuggets and fries, and Dean’s…

Well, Dean’s confused because his father is not a pie kinda guy. Dean is though.

The waitress smiles and heads off and Dad glances at Dean and lifts an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Nothin.” 

“You’re givin’ me a look.” 

“Well I-” 

The waitress is back in record time with the pie, and John takes it with a nod of thanks and slides it over to Dean. 

Dean blinks down at it, and then up at his dad. 

“Happy birthday, Dude.” 

“Wait,” Dean snaps. “Wait. What day is it?!” 

_3._

He’s woken out of a dead sleep, and pulls the machete out from under his pillow, shooting to an upright position, eyes wide and alert. 

“Whoa! Holy crap!” 

It’s Sam’s voice. 

Sam who left for college last year and hasn’t been around much.

And by much...well…

Dean squints in the darkness and flicks the bedside light on. It flickers a little; not from ghosts or anything. It’s just a really shitty hotel. 

“What the hell?” their father growls from the other bed, sitting up slowly.

Sam is standing there, looking sheepish. 

John groans. “Boy, didn’t I tell you not to come back?” 

“I’m not here for you, old man,” Sam snaps, and it’s then that Dean notices there’s something in his hand. 

It’s a pie. 

A whole pie. 

Dean shakes his head. “Sammy, what-” 

“Happy birthday, Jerk.” 

Dean blinks and shakes his head one more time. “You drove all night to bring me birthday pie?” 

“Yes,” Sam snaps. “And you better eat it, or I’m gonna be pissed.” 

Dean snorts, grinning a little. “I don’t have any forks.” 

“I know.” Sam drops the pie box in Dean’s lap and pulls two forks out. 

“Who said you could have any?” Dean asks. 

“My credit card,” Sam says, sitting down next to him. “Now open that thing up, I haven’t eaten since like four and I’m starving.” 

“Dad, you want some pie?” Dean asks. 

“No,” John snaps, laying back down. “Keep it down.” 

“‘Happy birthday Dean, glad you’re still alive, Dean, enjoy your pie, Dean, good to see you, Sammy.’” 

“Just eat,” Dean tells him. “And...Thanks.” 

“You weren’t gonna remember,” Sam comments. “Somebody had to.” 

_4._

They get to Bobby’s for a pitstop. It’s snowing and chill-your-bones cold and Dean can’t wait to get inside. 

They hustle in, Sam first and then Dean, and he stops, lighting up when he sees a big metal toolbox with a bow on it. 

“The hell is this?” he asks, bewildered and thrilled. 

“Today’s your birthday, ya idjit,” Bobby chuckles from the kitchen. “I gotcha a gift.” 

Dean wastes no time in opening up the toolbox on a brand-spankin’ new, shiny set of tools; socket wrenches and screwdrivers in all different sizes and shapes. A big new hammer. A few sizes worth of pliers. 

From beside him, Sam produces a pie. 

“Where the hell did that come from?!” Dean laughs. 

“I mean...you were looking at the dirty mags in the store, so I just snuck off and bought it,” Sam admits. 

Dean laughs harder, and they spend the night going through Bobby’s beer, laughing and talk. Bobby makes burgers; they eat the pie. 

It’s the best birthday Dean’s had in a hell of a long time. 

Too bad he’ll be going to hell in a few months. 

Still. 

_5._

“What’s this?” 

“It is your day of birth gift,” Castiel tells him. 

Dean frowns deeply and picks up the book, looking it over. “You got me a book?” 

“You mentioned Vonnegut once,” Castiel comments. “I wasn’t certain if you had that one but the shop-owner said it was very good.” 

“I don’t know this one,” Dean grins. “Thanks, Cas.” 

“You’re welcome.” Castiel pauses for a moment. “What did Sam get you?” 

“Nothin’ yet,” Dean shrugs. “Either he’ll show up at a weird hour with pie or he’ll forget. Either is fine.” 

“Ah.” 

“Birthdays aren’t a big deal.” 

“It seems that some humans make them big deals.” 

“Yeah, well, we’re not just some humans,” Dean shrugs. “We got bigger problems then birthdays.” 

_6._

They’re back late from a hunt, and Charlie is waiting for them. 

Both boys light up, and cry out in surprise; delighted surprise. 

She beams at them and gets up from her chair, holding a brightly-colored gift bag, dangling it on one finger. “Happy birthday, big brother I never asked for.” 

Dean laughs, a real belly laugh, and steps over. “What?” He snatches the bag and looks inside, laughing harder.

“What?” Sam asks. “What’d she get you?” 

Dean holds open the bag, and Sam starts laughing too. 

“Oh, god.” He lifts the complete Star Trek Original Series blu rays out of the box. 

“What do you say we order a pizza, and then boldly go where no man has gone before?” Charlie grins. “And by that I mean, like...the DVD’s. Not...y’know.” 

“We know,” Dean grins, pulling her in, his arm wrapped around her neck as he kisses the top of her head. “Thanks.” 

_7._

The singing starts and Dean’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. 

Jody, Donna, Claire and Alex are carrying out the biggest fucking pie he’s ever seen; candles stuck in it. 

“What?!” Dean cries, laughing. 

“Happy birthday dear Dean,” they and Sam finish singing. “Happy birthday to you!” 

“I picked the pie,” Sam tells him. “And it was my idea.” 

“Course it was,” Dean shakes his head. “You guys didn’t have to-” 

“Shut up and blow out the candles,” Claire snaps.

“What she said,” Jody adds. 

Dean shakes his head, grins and blows them out with one puff. They all cheer.  
Donna rubs his arm. “I bet you wished for something good.” 

Dean grins at her, before turning back to everyone. “So what’re you guys eating?” 

For his trouble, he gets five napkins thrown at his face.

 _8._

Mom hasn’t back to the bunker in a while, and Dean can’t help worrying, but hell. She’s a grown-ass woman. She can take care of herself. 

Still. 

He looks at his phone to see if she’s texted, and instead, sees the date.

January 24th. 

“Crap,” he grumbles. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He looks up quickly, seeing his mother standing at the door. “Uh...y’know? Nothin.” 

She descends the stairs, looking curious. “Where’s Sam?” 

“Don’t know,” Dean lies. His kid brother is probably on a mission to find pie. He just…

She forgot. 

She forgot his birthday and it stings, but it’d hurt her more to realize it, and he just-

“I got you something,” she says, grinning and sitting next to him. 

He blinks. “What do you mean?” 

“Did you forget your own birthday?” Mary asks, looking amused. “Dean.” 

“Well, I…” 

Her smile fades a little. “You thought I had.” 

“I mean, with everything that’s been goin on...Jack and Michael and-” 

Mary wraps her arm around his shoulder, and pulls him closer, kissing his temple. “Happy birthday, Dean.” 

He shuts up. 

From her purse, she pulls a dusty little toy car. 

“This is a little cheesy,” she says. “A little sentimental, and I don’t know if you remember, but-” 

“I remember,” Dean beams, picking up the little tiny black Impala, rubbing his thumb over it to clear the dust. 

“It’s not the same one from when you were little,” Mary admits. “But I looked everywhere for one.” 

Dean smiles at her. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

The door opens again and shuts loudly as Sam bursts in, pie box in hand. 

“Found one!” he says, and stops, his eyes widening in happy surprise. “Mom made it!” 

Mary smiles and pats Dean’s hand. “Mom made it. That thing smells amazing. We got candles?” 

Dean sits back and watches them fuss about and bustle around for candles and plates and forks, and spins one of the wheels with his index finger.

END


End file.
